


Silence

by sternflammenden



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Breathplay, Crack Pairings, F/M, Knifeplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-13
Updated: 2013-02-13
Packaged: 2017-11-29 03:18:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/682119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sternflammenden/pseuds/sternflammenden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Silence sails up the Wailing Water.  Euron Greyjoy makes a conquest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Silence

She steals from the cloistered protection of the holdfast in the dead of night, crawling out of a window near the ground that she’s gained access to through the dungeons, cloaking herself in black, the better to steal away in the shadows thrown by the imposing towers, the jagged merlons of her home. Bethany makes her way on foot to the shore of the river that winds beside Bolton lands, her eyes focused on the dim lantern that rocks in the mist, lighting the path to the red ship and the dark man who waits in its bowels for her. 

They never speak, and she finds it amusing that the longship is called _Silence_ , its crew mute, its captain mad. She isn’t accustomed to sweet words or petty endearments, given who else she lies with, who else she’s wedded, and the cold glint of her companion’s bared teeth in the gloom of his quarters is enough, the colder press of steel, also shining in the low light, against her throat, her heart, enough to warm her flesh, make her skin crawl with fear and pleasure, commingled feelings that leave her breathless. 

Euron could kill her on a whim. She’s seen it done, seen him break the neck of a thrall who’d started at the sight of the woman in his bed, some hapless northman who’d been foolish enough to recognize her, foolish enough to give his new lord cause to doubt his loyalty, and the hands had tightened easily enough around the boy’s throat, pausing his breath, ending his life. She’d seen Roose do likewise a dozen times over, watched him attend to matters below with a casual indifference despite his reddened hands and the screams that echoed around him, and it was the pleasure in Euron Greyjoy’s face that had so undone her. A pleasure that had never creased her husband’s still features. The amusement, the twinkle in that bright blue eye that cut through her like one of her husband’s blades would, that smiling eye. And in that moment, she was his despite what he was capable of. 

His hands had tightened around her neck that night, pressing on her windpipe, not enough to wound really, only enough to bruise, and the purple shadows of fingers were like jewels against her pale flesh, a strange match for his equally-stained lips that brushed against them after he had drawn those hands away and thrust them between her thighs, his laughter echoing in the darkness. It was the only sound allowed her, and she could not help but join in, an ache in her chest, her heart in her throat.


End file.
